


A Cursed Miracle

by rereis_senpai



Series: Cursed Flowers [2]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asseylum unfortunately is quite relevant in this fic, Canon Compliant, Coughing, F/M, Flowers, Friendship, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, No beta- we die like men, Sick fic?, Unrequited Love, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-03-13 21:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rereis_senpai/pseuds/rereis_senpai
Summary: The two shivered at the thought of vomiting a solid out, and gagged at the thought of loving someone so much that you can die.“Hah! Only idiots get this disease.”Slaine smiles.“Yeah.”He’s an idiot,he concludes as he stares at the small, yellow petals cradled in his hand.Alternatively, Slaine's perspective on Hanahaki





	1. Agrimony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **agrimony**   
>  _/ˈaɡrɪməni/_
> 
> _noun ___  
> `noun: **agrimony** ; plural noun: **agrimonies**`  
>  1\. a plant of the rose family which bears slender flower spikes and hooked fruits, found in north temperate regions.  
> 
> 
> 2. _(in flower language)_ thankfulness or gratitude

Slaine is stranded in a planet of Martians out for Terran blood, and the only thought that runs through his head is- _what’s so great about this aldnoah thing?_

Yet here he was, hanging by the threads of his suit, debris littered everywhere, as he stares through half-lidded eyes at a girl no older than he, all because his desperation to appease his father’s acceptance drove him out of the comfort of his home planet.

He coughs, and slips out of consciousness in the arms of a beautiful girl in white.

 _An angel._ He thinks.

 

The angel he’s fallen for goes by the title Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia, heiress of the Vers Empire. He spends most of his time in her presence, basking in the rooms illuminated by her mere presence.

He walks behind her, in her shadow, and follows after her because a lowly Terran like him can never amount to the high and noble class of the royals.

But the angel is kind, and insists that he walks by her side, taking his hand in hers as they walk down the corridors with linked hands. His heart flutters at the contact, and for the first time in his life he has been granted acceptance by a cherished person.

He smiles warmly and closes his eyes, revelling in the comforting presence of her angelic presence for a while longer.

_(Unbeknownst to him, the counts grumble incoherent disagreement under their breath, narrowing their eyes in unfiltered disdain as the two pass by.)_

 

Slaine is thrown back into reality as news of his father’s death spread throughout the planet through hushed whispers and sharp eyes. He supposes that he should have seen this coming, and should have thought better of his choice in migrating here.

But his choice cannot be undone and the counts struggle to find him a place to stay, shifting him around, trying to shrug the burden of him off to other counts. During his shuffle throughout the clans, he became acquainted to quite a few of the guards that accompanied him during his trip to different places.

Eventually he was settled under the care of Count Cruhteo, who appointed him to the servant class.

His time under Cruhteo’s care was cruel, and he barely caught sight of the celestial girl. So like a flower, he withered under the disappearance of his sun, his personality shrinking into himself as the glares of high ranking nobles sink deep into his heart, wrenching every bit of kindness from him.

His father leaves him stranded there, weak with nothing to protect him from the viciousness of the Vers Empire.

~~_His father leaves him for the last time in his life._ ~~

 

Count Cruhteo is a man of nobility, which makes it a constant for him to be strict within his home. Slaine finds out the hard way that Cruhteo is a man of little mercy, and finds himself scarred from the experience.

_~~He winces as he applies the ice pack onto his bruised arm, lines scattered throughout the entirety of his limbs dyed in a light shade of scarlet by the count’s cane.~~ _

Cruhteo is a man of nobility, and is given the grace to visit royalty every so often. This provides Slaine a small window of time to visit his sun and recover from his injuries.

They arrive and Asseylum is quickly swept away by a few maids who usher her to a class of hers. The princess shoots him an apologetic smile through the midst of it, and Slaine’s heart melts at the sight of it.

Although he was essentially blocked from his only source of happiness, it just made him more determined to spend time with her, fuelling him with energy with each visit they make.

_(Cruhteo narrows his eyes with each time his servant slips away, and makes note to tail him later.)_

It’s become a routine for Slaine to never meet the princess, but that’s fine because he grew up acquainted to the silence of loneliness. Still though, he continued to search for the princess, listening for hushed voices and squeaky apologies.

Fortunately for him, he successfully tracked down the princess.

“Princess!” He greeted, his face gradually darkening with a shade of red as he realised that- _he didn’t know what to do._

The princess merely giggled and invited him next to her during the lesson, and he hovered behind her, glancing away from the glaring disdain that etched across the tutor’s face. Coincidentally, they had been in the midst of a lesson regarding Earth, and as the lesson unfolded, Slaine noticed a few discrepancies between the Earth he knows, and the Earth illustrated by the tutor.

He points these errors out, irking the tutor further to the point that he gets kicked out of class. He sighs and wanders around, trying to find his place in his mismatched home in the Vers Empire.

 

They arrive back at Cruhteo’s castle, and Slaine is immediately led away from his routine. He gulps audibly and shakes as the count’s cane echoed against the empty corridor they are led through.

They enter a room and is immediately locked as Slaine enters. He turns around to see Cruhteo’s figure cloaked in the darkness, and he whimpers as the count taps his cane against the floor.

He closes his eyes and submits to the punishment the count saw fit for him, wincing with every contact the cane made against his healing scars.

 

The count leaves without him, and for the first time since he was taken under Cruhteo’s care, he was forced to carry out his duties as a servant. The maids give him directions to who he was going to serve, and he finds himself meeting a boy no older than he, with bright blond hair and clear blue eyes.

 _His hair matches the princess’,_ he thinks bitterly.

The two make pleasantries and Slaine learns that this boy is Klancain, son of Cruhteo and his successor. Slaine introduces himself, but has nothing to add when it came to his life and future. Luckily for him, Klancain has been informed of his presence, and the two sparked a brief friendship.

_(Slaine could really care less about the boy. He owed nothing to him and neither did he. The only reason why they were linked was because of the pity the count felt for him.)_

They talk vaguely, with each sharing experiences and trading stories without leaking information. It was casual and friendly to an outsider’s eye, however the two carefully tiptoed as they continued this trade.

Slaine escorts the boy to all sorts of places around the castle, and finds himself on more than one occasion to be lost, forcing him to ask for help from the other boy.

They end this charade when Slaine is called aside by the count, and they part ways with a professional smile.

 

The next time Cruhteo visits the royals, he brings Slaine along at the request of Emperor Regalia. The two were confused as to the emperor’s request, but asked nothing of it.

Instead, they stood in front of said emperor, with Count Cruhteo hovering behind his ward, watching with a keen eye, as the emperor confronted Slaine.

Slaine shook in his boots, the intensity of the emperor’s gaze weighing heavy on him. Cruhteo inwardly sneered at his servant’s pitiful attitude, and a smirk adorned his lips as he waits for the emperor to berate the Terran on his behalf.

Their confusion turns to shock as Emperor Regalia proposes a deal for the Terran, exchanging his knowledge of Earth with the job of the princess’ Terran tutor. Slaine’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he accepts the proposal with a soaring heart.

_(Unbeknownst to him, Count Cruhteo stands fuming behind him. Angry that his servant gained such bounties from the emperor.)_

 

Slaine spends his days in bliss, happy to be appointed as Asseylum’s tutor and to spend more than a few hours with her to himself, gushing to her about his home country. It is the only time that he’s glad to be the only Terran stranded in the Martian planet, and it’s the only time he finds himself grateful to have followed his father in his obsession of aldnoah.

He teaches her of the geography, economy and inner workings of the Terran community. His patriotism shone as he explains the different kingdoms of life, watching as her face glowed in fascination of all the birds and flowers that she has been deprived of on Vers.

_(He hopes to bring her to Earth one day. He wants to see how her beauty shines against beautiful Mother Nature.)_

She asks him questions- questions he doesn’t know the answer to- and he chokes up an excuse and goes back to Cruhteo’s castle with newfound determination to scour for the princess’ answer. He takes to his father’s lab and locks himself up in his room, busy cramming information to relay back to the princess.

~~_He definitely doesn’t lock himself up because his chest hurts or anything. It’s probably just the after effects of Count Cruhteo’s beating._ ~~

 

With each moment he spends with the princess, he finds himself drawn closer and closer to her light. He knows that she is the sun while he is a mere moth, cursed to forever roam the earth in search of the source of such great light. He hopes that one day he’ll be worthy of becoming her Icarus, to be worthy to travel the closest to her light.

_(And melt, dooming himself to a disastrous death. Whatever, anything to earn her attention is worth his life.)_

 

He spends his days cooped up in his father’s lab, and finds himself fascinated by the medical books his father researched, and memorises them as best as he can to recite back to the princess. The princess smiles as he shares his information, but he notices that her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and discards his current findings and opts to read books on the fauna instead.

He presents his information and her eyes light up. He’s pleased with himself and begins to research more fauna related topics. Eventually he grows sick of learning useless information of the animal kingdom, and instead focuses more flora- ignoring his need to read the herbal benefits of the flowers he looks up.

He’s fascinated by the beauty of flowers, and is astounded when he finds out the meaning behind each one. He takes in the information with a stride, and they share their excitement over the beautiful array of flowers on Earth. He points out their different colours, meanings and their names, translating them from the common Latin to their current tongue.

Asseylum then shows interest in the languages on Earth, and gushes about how different each are. He smiles slyly and conjures a sentence in his mother-tongue.

_“Jeg elsker deg.”_

Her face beams, and his insides shrivel up at the intensity his sun shines. She asks him what he said, what language he said it in, and how he knew it. He explains calmly, eager to sate her excitement and curiosity, explaining how he was of Norwegian descent, before his father took to the skies and travelled around for quite a while, before he took to space. He explains this all with a smile gracing his lips.

_~~He doesn’t tell her what he said. He isn’t allowed to.~~ _

He leaves the castle giddy and excited for their next visit.

 

He takes to his father’s notes and reads the medical information his brain has craved. He sits under the comfort of his blanket in his makeshift tent, reading the worn notebook, before he is disrupted by the knock on the door.

He rolls off the bed and opens the door to meet Klancain, who has blankets and pillows in his hands.

 _“Sleepover.”_ He says and Slaine permits him to enter the room.

~~He doesn’t have the right to deny the count’s son after all.~~

They set up their fortress of blankets supported by Slaine’s bedframe and a chair. They lay down a blanket and some pillows, before they settled in with another blanket thrown over them.

Slaine sits up and continues reading his father’s notes, currently reading a peculiar disease that sounds quite like fantasy that he doesn’t know what to make of it. Klancain turns around from his spot from their makeshift sleeping bag, and stares at the book that Slaine’s enraptured in, narrowing his eyes to make out the title of the book.

 _(Jokes on him, his father doesn’t write titles on the cover on his notebooks._ He laughs internally.)

 _“What are you reading?”_ Klancain gives in to his curiosity.

 _“A book.”_ He answers, his eyes never leaving the crude handwriting of his father’s. _“My father’s notebook.”_

The heir hums. _“What’s it about?”_

 _“Diseases.”_ He smiles. _“But this one sounds so stupid, I can’t believe it’s real.”_

 _“Why?”_ Klancain sits up, causing the blanket to wrinkle as it falls from his chest. He shifts closer to Slaine, attempting to gain a better view on what the other was reading. _“I can’t read it.”_

 _“It’s in Russian.”_ Slaine shrugs. _“I’ll translate for you.”_

Klancain waits eagerly as Slaine strings together a coherent sentence.

 _“The Hanahaki Disease is a fatal disease that causes the victim to cough up flower petals.”_ He explains.

Klancain is momentarily confused, his head tilting slightly to the side with an eyebrow slightly raised. _“What’s a flower petal?”_

Slaine waves him off, dismissing the detail as minor, and continues reading. _“The victim suffers because of a one-sided love that’s so strong, that the heart grows roots around the lungs, causing the victim to either suffocate because of the roots, or because of the petals.”_

Klancain deadpans, still not knowing what the hell a petal is, but remains silent. _“Is there any treatment?”_

Slaine narrows his eyes, staring intently at his father’s handwriting. _“Uh, you can get surgery- but that’ll remove your feelings for the person.”_ He provided. _“Ooh! Or you can get over them and vomit the whole plant out.”_

Both boys shivered at the thought of vomiting a solid out, and gagged at the thought of loving someone so much that you can die. _“Hah! Only idiots get this disease.”_

Slaine smiles. _“Yeah.”_

 

 _He’s an idiot,_ he concludes as he stares at the small, yellow petals that he easily identified as agrimony flowers.

`Agrimony- thankfulness.`

He smiles bittersweetly as he clenches his fist and crushes the petals under his feet, hoping to rid it’s existence. He breathes and his chest feels funny. There’s something tickling against his lungs, and he guesses that it’s the vines of the agrimony, and berates himself.

He wonders for a moment whether surgery is worth his life, and smothers the thought- the mere thought of the princess was a blessing. He should be grateful that he’s even allowed to feel such sin for her.

He coughs and soon the itchiness of his throat goes away- for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Jeg elsker deg_   
>  `I love you - Norwegian`


	2. Terra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **terra**   
>  _/ˈtɛrə/_
> 
> _noun_  
> ` noun: **terra** ; noun: **Terra**`  
>  1\. land or territory.
> 
> 2\. _(in science fiction)_ the planet earth.

He spends more time in her presence than he thought he would, basking in her celestial light. He spends the most time with her, and Ray Regalia notices this, and requests for his presence.

The boy’s nervousness amuses him, but he frowns at his timidness.

“I fear that times of war will arise soon.” He states. “You spend the most time with Princess Asseylum.” _Unfortunately._

Slaine shifted in his place, waiting for the emperor to continue. The emperor gritted his teeth and inhaled disdainfully.

“You are by her side the most, therefore you have the highest chance of protecting her.” He explains. “Therefore training you is required for you to be able to protect the princess.”

Slaine cast his gaze down and withered uncomfortably under the pointed glare of the emperor, before his lips twisted down to frown at the thought of having to fight.

_(But if it’s to fight for the angel who saved his life, then he’ll sacrifice his remaining humanity for her.)_

Slaine accepts with a reluctance, leaving the throne room with a heavy heart weighed heavy on his chest.

~~_Heavier than it already is,_ he thinks as he coughs up the yellow petals of agrimony.~~

 

He stays by the princess’ side in his coming days, and as he preaches about the beauty of Earth, he sees her fascination grow into an ambition. He watches as she declared that she will bring peace between the two planets, and bridge the two together, ending their never-ceasing hostility.

He smiles with a pained expression and encourages her on, approving her dreams and goals. He provides her his support and stays loyally by her side as they bloom into adolescents.

Training is slipped into his routine and his body becomes firmer and toned as exercise burnt off his childhood chub. With each visit to the princess, Asseylum marvels at his newest transformation, commenting on his loss of his chubby cheeks.

He blushes and takes the compliment in pride, happy to know that his effort has been acknowledged and is paid off well. He strives harder for the princess’ attention, and confines himself in the combat section of the library, scouring through each and every book, absorbing the information and noting then down.

He takes to the skies when Cruhteo sends him to learn how to fly the Sky Carriers under a fellow servant’s tutelage. His book knowledge does not compare to the way his heart seizes as they take off, nor the adrenaline that rushes through his ears as his mentor flies around the castle.

 _(Is this how free the birds on Earth feel?_ He wonders.)

The servant shows him ways to handle a gun, and he fiddles with a variety of them, before he settles for a small handgun. The man gets Slaine to point the gun in front of him and onto the target, placing his calloused hands over Slaine’s and directing him with a few tweaks of his fingers.

He lets go and tells Slaine to shoot.

_(He misses, but that’s okay. He’ll just have to train harder than ever.)_

Cruhteo calls him up to the landing bays and has him trained in assisting the mechanics in charge of the Tharsis, and have them train him with flight and battle simulations. He recounts his time in the virtual sky and finds that it can’t be compared to the real thing, no matter how much the seats shake nor the intensity of the sounds.

He narrates his experience to the princess and smiles as she beams in wonder and her ambition becomes set. She begins to dedicate herself to learning about Earth and requests for his presence more.

_~~His heart skips a beat, tightening the grip the flowers have around him.~~ _

She smiles and asks eagerly, and he smiles and answers passionately. At this point they’ve gone over the life cycle of birds. He’s boredom of the topic is carefully concealed with a veil of bliss, as he watches her face brighten up at the thought of the skies the birds reign free in.

Her face brightens and brightens, blinding him with her beauty- blinding him with his own love for her. That blind love forces him to train harder and harder for the awaited day.

For the day that she will bridge his home with hers.

He waits with bated breath as he watches the broadcast illustrate her glowing figure enter a Terran vehicle. He releases that breath and finds his heart relieved at her highness’ safety. He continues watching the broadcast with a lighter chest, happy to see the princess’ dream to its fruition.

 

His heart stops and for a second he thought that he would succumb to the flowers, waiting for them to clog up and disperse in the room at that moment.

 

But it doesn’t.

He doesn’t know whether to be happy that her highness is alive, or to be devastated that his love remained unrequited. Whatever feelings he harbors, he knows that he is grateful to know that her highness has survived the catastrophe.

 

War breaks out as the emperor had predicted, and he is drafted to serve the count.

“Please allow me to fight.” He pleaded. “Allow me to fight for her highness.”

He was silenced with a quick hit to his cheek.

 

He is shuffled around once more and now provides support to Sir Trillram, and descends back to Earth. He marvels at the thought of her highness eloping with the Earth’s beauty, and chokes on a few petals at the thought.

They touch down and attack some Terran kataphrakt. Slaine wasn’t of much help, considering that he was pathetically shot down within the first few moments of battle engagement.

He coughs and chokes on the combination of petals, smoke and blood, and inevitably rises from the ashes. He coughs and coughs and coughs, his chest aching with each shake of his body.

He squints and his eyes burn, he will have to regroup with Sir Trillram later. He coughs and coughs, but manages to escape from the suffocating fumes that have managed to trap his lungs and wrench the air out of them.

He struggles to stand up, but when he does, he is met with the most beautiful sight he’s laid eyes upon.

 

_Princess Asseylum stood there, her beautiful figure glowing against the sun that surrendered to her beauty, embracing her in a celestial glow that painted her in the angelic light she blesses everyone with._

 

He chokes, and for the first time, he doesn’t wonder what the hell he’s choking on. As captivated as he may be by the sight of her highness, the anguished wail pulls him out of his enthrallment.

He watches as Trillram struggles out of his kataphrakt, and he watches as the knight proceeds to descend further into his madness. The mad man screeches his failure, and screams for Asseylum’s death.

He screams and screams for Slaine to help him, and Slaine wishes that he could wrangle the life out of him and punish him committing such an atrocious sin. Instead, he shoots the man in the head, silencing him from confessing anymore of his sins.

 

He returns to Cruhteo’s side and begs the man to allow him to enlist in the frontlines, especially with the new-found knowledge of her highness’ survival. Cruhteo is unrelenting, and Slaine has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent the scream from escaping.

It seems like he’ll have to take matters into his own hands.

 

He slips out and into one of the sky-carriers, watching as the bullets fly past him while he steadily lifts himself into the cockpit of the carrier. He straps himself on and with a determined breath, and blasts himself into space, the carrier driven by his own dedication and motivation.

He searches worldwide for the orange kataphrakt that stood by the princess’ side, and glides down into the last known location provided by the martian he threatened in the elevator.

It turns out that the terrans are engaged in combat with a count. He swoops down and aids the orange kataphrakt in battle. They team up and work in surprising unison, before they finally defeat the count.

Slaine releases a relieved breath and tenses up when he realises why he’s back on Earth.

_“Are you my enemy?”_

 

A bullet was his answer.

 

Really he should have been put down instead. It would have been much better than this horrible reality he’s awoken to. Being chained up really does that to you- so does being tortured.

Lines burn across his chest as Cruhteo lashes him up. He’d given up on beating the truth out of him, and opted for raw torture. The whip kisses his skin and parts with red marks that burn sharply.

Cruhteo takes brief breaks. It’s neither a mercy nor cruelty that he does this.

It gives him time to think and collect his thoughts, before Cruhteo unleashes the next onslaught of marks on him.

It gives him time to lull himself into a false sense of hope, as the cool air brushes against the fire spread throughout his body, soothing him from the pain before they are once again split open.

The breaks stretch longer and longer and the fire burns hotter as petals threaten to spill out. He sucks in cool air through clenched teeth and chokes at the sudden change in temperature.

The petals are released and they fall to Cruhteo’s feet, landing in a beautiful array of tragic colour stained red.

Cruhteo’s eyes flash and switches to kicking his chest, prodding around his most sensitive areas. He locks onto those areas and releases his barrage of assault and Slaine hacks up more blood than he thought he had.

He mercifully relents and his body throbs in pain.

“So.” He breaks the silence. “Will you speak now you Terran dog?”

He answers with raspy breaths.

Cruhteo rejects his answer and continues fishing for the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> `1680 words`


	3. Birds of Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `The bird of paradise is also known as the crane flower because of its resemblance to the plume of tropical birds. These blooms are also called Strelitzias. The bright colors and startling angles of this exotic bloom make it a favorite among florists.`

He wakes up to comfort and light.

 

 _“Asseylum?”_ He blurts out.

 

A deep chuckle resonates through the dark figure that haunted the corner of his periphery.

 

_“No. Thankfully I’m not that naive royal.”_

 

Slaine’s heart is caught in his throat and he has a brief moment of thought of the petals blooming inside before his attention is caught again by the count in front of him.

 

_“What do you want?”_

 

The man merely flashes a smile, though it's dark undertone was not missed by the servant.

 

 _“Watch yourself boy.”_ The count warns. _“It wouldn’t do to attack the one that saved you from Cruhteo.”_

 

Slaine’s breath hitched and suddenly the pieces were connecting. He was no longer in Cruhteo’s landing castle, nor was he in the cramped confines of his room. Saazbaum must have intercepted Cruhteo’s torture, perhaps after he hung up.

 

But Cruhteo is a stubborn man. There’s no way he’d give up Slaine that easily.

 

(Unless of course, he knew Slaine wasn’t worth his treatment anymore. For some reason that ached his sore heart further.)

 

 _“Seeing you think so hard is cute.”_ The count comments. _“Though, I would advise not thinking too hard. Wouldn’t want you passing out after having woken up.”_

 

Slaine finally looks up and holds his end of the stare against the count, his turquoise burned furiously with the underlying hue of curiosity. Carefully, he draws out the truth.

 

_“Explain.”_

 

He’s back in the battle scene despite his known hostility to the commanding count. He keeps his temper as bridled as possible, not wanting to lose his current freedom.

 

From what he notices of the count, he is much kinder than Cruhteo. He doesn’t pick at his every flaw, nor does he chastise him for the swelling pride he feels after each accomplishment.

It felt… nice. He was like the father who was never there.

Saazbaum merely chuckles and ruffles his head in private company.

 

His chest tingles with a warm feeling, but he quickly banishes it away once he’s in the company of her Highness. He scowls at the tubes securing her life, and curses the man for his ludicrousy. He marches out and maintains a composed face, his heart aching for his beloved.

 

_(But that’s a lie. After all, what happened to the flowers that he grew for Her garden?_

_Did you lie about that too?)_

 

He is assigned a servant once his knighthood has been acknowledged. His name is Harklight, and from what he can tell from his stoic face, he’s either very loyal to Saazbaum, or truly content with serving him, despite the insults.

He bids him luck as he engages in another battle, and is the first to greet him as he descends onto the landing castle. Murmurs erupt from around him but he can only focus on the tall man in front of him, welcoming him with praise and a smile.

 

 _“Harklight.”_ He calls. _“Why do you serve me?”_

Harklight falls silent in thought, and Slaine waits.

 

 _“I serve you because it is my duty.”_ Harklight provides. A half truth, Slaine picks up. Clever.

 

Slaine turns away. _“Where do your loyalties lie?”_

Silence envelopes them once more, and Slaine wished it continued to remain.

 

 _“I serve you, and only you, sir.”_ He answers.

 

Slaine’s stomach churns. _Traitor._ It hisses.

 

He finds himself in a losing dispute with visiting counts. He grits his teeth as he forced down like a dog, and finally he remembers where he is and who he was.

 

Knight Slaine Troyard, son of the late Doctor Troyard who was raised as a pity project.

 

Knight Slaine _Saazbaum_ Troyard, son of Count Saazbaum, who raises Slaine to repay his late father.

 

Slaine blinks and suddenly a meteor shower flies past him, raining damage to his current-father. He swallows the bile that threatens to rise, and with one last look, he bids the count farewell.

 

 _“Goodbye.”_ He whispers.

 

Unbeknownst to him, an orange kataphrakt remains within a communicative distance, and distinctly records all he says. And so everything is caught, from his evil schemes to his silent goodbyes.

 

_“Father.”_

 

_Knight Slaine Troyard, son of the late Doctor Troyard who was raised as a pity project._

_Knight Slaine Saazbaum Troyard, son of Count Saazbaum, who raises Slaine to repay his late father._

 

_Count Slaine Saazbaum Troyard, son of Count Saazbaum, who had raised Slaine as an heir to his throne. As a son of a different family._

 

_~~As a son.~~ _

 

It gets harder to breathe with all the schemes pulled behind closed doors. He and Lemrina begins a dangerous waltz that determines the outcome of their people. She suffocates him in a way her sister had with her flowers, however her infliction is more metaphorical than literal.

 

She pokes and prods at old wounds. She’s trying to find an opening, but nothing can be used against him.

Not even her sister, and now that he’s presented with this anomaly, they both scratch their heads in thought.

 

Huh, that’s weird. He’s no longer infatuated with her.

His debt has been repaid to his angel, and it’s his turn to create a paradise for her.

 

He just hopes she’ll sleep through the worst of it.

 

Lady Luck curses him it seems. Not that he cares at this point.

 

Asseylum has woken up and stormed up a riot. He’s relieved to see some of his court remaining by his side, having sworn fealty to him. He smothered the bitter anger to smoulder.

 

_(Traitors. The blind say. They dare betray Her Highness Princess Asseylum?_

_But alas, he was the leader. Their lord. They were merely following him._

_He was the traitor.)_

 

He glides through the halls of the base. He has to regroup, but enemies have boarded the shuttle. He pushes himself head first and regrets it a second later when he hears the bullet ricochet the wall past his ear. Immediately he ducks for cover behind a crate, fiddling through his red uniform for his gun.

 

With his weapon at the ready, he darts out and shoots a few warning shots at his attacker.

His eyes widen as they make contact with the half-lidded ones of his enemy, that widen by just a fraction. Their breaths hitch in unison which was covered by the hiss of gunpowder.

Had the two been closer, they would have noticed the pain glistening their eyes, as Slaine flickers over to the eye he shot out of pure wrath while the boy breathes a calming breath to soothe his ever-beating heart at the thought of the count’s torture.

 

They bridge a mock-alliance as they open fire, bullets swerving past their targets in a frenzy to reach something. They spare one last glance at each other before they hurry away to their checkpoints.

 

 _“Orange.”_ Slaine breathes as he is faced with an enemy of the past. A Terran, who, despite his certain shortcomings, has stubbornly broke out of formation to bid him one last farewell.

A small smile graces his dry lips as Orange- _Inaho_ \- provides him with his own name.

 _“Bat.”_ He purred, and Slaine chokes as his chest tightened in _such a familiar way._

 

_“Orange.” He calls once more. _“Let’s dance, shall we?”_ He draws out his weapon as he marches his final hurrah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how to write so uh, don't mind me if the story suddenly becomes present/past when it was originally the other. It's honestly been such a long time since I picked up this fanfic.
> 
> Originally this fanfic was gonna be a one shot, but... circumstances were different to Inaho's and I ended up lengthening it to 3 chapters. I was meant to end it here but... I made this chapter long and I hadn't even reached the end yet and I haven't spoken about certain details.
> 
> Slaine... is very complicated. That's all I can say.
> 
> Also, the wiki is useless with the events that happens with Slaine and Inaho, so I depended on my memory and my memory sucks ass, clearly obvious seeing how I forgot Slaine's whole, "Fuck you Inaho." //shot


	4. Blue rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `Blue Rose` 
> 
> `Represents mystery, the impossible, or the unattainable.`
> 
> `Miracle.`

Slaine has committed many sins. He’s surprised he was even alive at this point. He should be grateful, that her highness has found use in him despite his past treacher and betrayal. But he can’t find it in his heart to thank her.

Heck he can’t even _think_ of her.

Everytime her face lights up in his mind, it briefly glows before it morphs into the horrifyingly bloody scene where he had found her half dead with the Terran he had shot.

The same Terran that visits him every now and then.

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this jail, probably a month or two. His hair has grown into a mullet, and Inaho offers him a haircut.

He declines, he won’t ever let an enemy that close to him with a weapon in hand.

(But are they enemies at this point?

What does he have to lose?)

 

Inaho comes back the next day with a hair tie. He leaves that day with Slaine’s question answered.

It’s been 4 months.

 

He does the math and determines that Inaho visits weekly, and begins to use the boy as his anchor.

The boy visits and sits down across him with an army of pawns and likewise. They engage in battle like the old times, though it’s not as thrilling as Slaine remembers it to be.

Either way, he’s content with the boy’s company.

 

He’s drawn to the eyepatch that covers the abyss Slaine knows lies behind. There’s nothing the eyepatch can do to cover the truth for him, because he was the one who created that truth.

That Inaho is missing an eye.

Slaine dreams of their collision prior to his defeat.

They had been locked in an intense battle of the wits, his turquoise-green meeting his amber-red eyes. Two unique sets of eye colours battling it out for who reigns superior.

It was obvious that Inaho did, considering Slaine had flickered his gaze away first, allowing Inaho to initiate his attack first. He hadn’t known why he had yielded, but now that he looks back on the memory it was all too clear.

Guilt.

 _(That’s what you’d call it right?_ He asks as he curls up in the crudely covered mattress of his.

 _That’s what you’d call it right?_ He asks as he whispers apologies to deafened ears.

_That’s what…)_

 

He has grown fond of the boy and soon the feeling of his chest tightening appears again.

The burning sensation is familiar, so he is able to cope with it for the first few weeks (months? How many visits has Inaho made? Let’s see…). But sooner than later his throat burns and the next thing the guards know is that he’s choking on something, begging to go to the toilet.

They let him. (They don’t want to be in charge of clean up. And they most certainly don’t want to explain how or why their anorexic prisoner became bulimic.)

He throws up petals. Blue ones to be exact.

 

A year has passed since his imprisonment and Inaho invites him out to the open air. They sit out in the prison’s rooftop, and for the first time since his imprisonment, he feels at ease.

He turns to gift Inaho a smile of his own to express his gratitude, but his breath is caught in his throat as his heart skips a beat from the imagine bestowed in front of him.

(Who knew Orange could look so majestic? He wonders later. Who knew the Earth’s palette couldn’t beat those of Inaho’s?

_Who knew he was so beautiful?)_

 

He spends his time lounging in his cell with a book in hand. This current book he had was a gift from Inaho. He had insisted for Slaine to read it, considering that he didn’t have much to do.

As grateful as he was to recieve something of such caliber, he can’t ignore the way his heart twinges and chest aches.

So he reads in silence, occasionally humming to fill the desolate air.

It’s not like he’ll have any other company anytime soon.

 

Blood was something he grew up with.

It was there when Cruhteo unleashed hell upon him. It was there when he done wrong. It was there when he… was just there.

So when he’s racked up with the image of Asseylum squirming in her own blood, he can’t help the impulse to vomit.

The next thing he knows is the sight of blood in the waters of the bowl, trailing down in a beautiful dance. Within its mess, blue petals stick out from its place.

_Blue roses._

 

Blood is something he is familiar with.

It neither brings him pain, nor comfort.

So when he holds a gun to a boy his age, all hesitation cease and he pulls the trigger.

 _He’s unaffected._ He says. _I don’t know him._ He adds. _Didn’t._

So why does he cry at night, when those memories come to haunt him?

Why does he spill blood in the day, through his mouth and through his orders?

_(Why Slaine? I thought you only loved ~~Asseylum~~?)_

~~_Love?_ ~~

 

They’re sitting down on the opposite ends of this monochromatic court. Pieces are scattered through the field, some discarded on the side while others continue to fight for victory.

It’s a peaceful day like all the others, and Slaine lets a small smile grace his face.

The day is abruptly wrecked, however, as his throat suddenly closes up because of an obstructive object. He slides back his chair and falls to the floor.

His legs have crumpled beneath him due to the sheer pain that ignited within the wide span of his throat to his chest. He scratches at his throat, his voice only able to project his pain through choked wretches as he attempts to cough it out.

Suddenly, Inaho is there by his side. He places a hand to his back and curls it up into a ball and proceeds to pound his hand to his upper back.

They work in a sync as Slaine desperately hacks his throat away.

They finally stop once Slaine spews out a morbid amount of blood, and they fixate their eyes away from it and instead focuses on the fully grown flower that sits in front of them.

`Blue rose- the impossible; miracle.`

 

They sit in shared silence, neither willing to go ahead and break the silent peace.

But Slaine has to. His life depends on it.

Slowly, with trembling hands, he unsteadily reaches out for the plant he’s been cursed with, and holds it securely in his curled hand. The thorns are prickly, and incite a few drops of blood, but it’s nothing compared to the burning sensation that melts away at the sight of his culprit.

He holds it out and takes a breath, calming his thumping heart down.

 _”Inaho.”_ He smiles. _”Will you give me a miracle?”_

He waits, because that’s all he can do now. He has no right to demand an answer. He has no right to for an answer.

He has no right at all.

 _”I’m sorry.”_ The boy turns away.

Not even happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished!! God bless!!!!
> 
> Also, screw you Detective. I hope you either choke or cry.


End file.
